I didn’t grow up evangelical. In saying that I didn’t grow up “evangelical,” it’s vital to supply some broad idea about what “evangelical” actually means. When speaking of “evangelical,” I’m pondering of the next:
A broad historical movement decoupled from specific denominations that’s: a) rooted within the Protestant Reformation’s “solas” (i.e., sola scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia, sola Christus, soli Deo Gloria), b) emphasizes the importance of a private relationship with God, c) constituted by plenty of formally separate but networked institutions, and d) vulnerable to tackle cultural and political identity on the expense of its theologically distinct testimony.
Being “evangelical” on this sense wasn’t on my radar as a child. My family attended a Missouri Synod Lutheran church, where I used to be confirmed in my teens. Aside from one kid who wore Petra and DC Talk t-shirts in highschool, I wasn’t really exposed to evangelicalism until I started attending Campus Crusade (now Cru) events during my sophomore 12 months of school. Cru emphasized evangelism, a private relationship with Christ, and disciplines for spiritual growth, but I wouldn’t begin to experience a few of the challenges related to evangelicalism until I began attending seminary.
During my time at seminary, I started to catch glimpses of the darker and messier side of evangelical culture. For instance, one professor suggested that wives should never earn greater than their husbands. Given that almost all of us were planning to enter pastoral ministry, following this professor’s advice would have required a de facto vow of poverty. While this form of comment was the exception relatively than the norm, it wasn’t viewed as particularly outlandish or problematic in context. Whatever views one holds on the role of ladies within the church or in the house, this form of extrabiblical instruction, in my estimation, must have created more friction than it did.
I used to be further “enlightened” on the finer points of evangelical culture once I began working as an assistant dean. While it has change into relatively fashionable to report on fiscal and sexual scandals of ministry leaders, I’d humbly suggest that such reporting is seldom helpful or redemptive. I say this because, in my experience as an assistant dean, I had the (dis)pleasure of interacting with some “big names” within the evangelical space. One megachurch pastor was frustrated that his child had failed a course. When he called, I informed him that I couldn’t share any information with him as a consequence of privacy regulations (his child had not authorized the varsity to talk to him). He responded by yelling at me on the phone after which calling the president, who authorized a free re-take and a few tutoring. While I let those involved with the situation (including the president) learn about his inappropriate behavior, it went unaddressed. Allowing that form of behavior to go unchecked could seem trivial, but in my experience, the way in which you do anything is the way in which you do every thing. I discovered that evangelical culture tended to permit bad behavior so long as it wasn’t too bad.
The examples noted above could seem relatively minor. In part, that’s because discussing a few of my “juicier” experiences would require extra space than this relatively transient article allows. Also, while evangelicalism has its peccadillos, I actually have no real interest in demonizing it. The examples above are sufficient to gesture toward a straightforward truth: evangelicalism functions like most other communities or networks. We need to acknowledge that lots of the besetting sins of evangelical culture are, despite certain differences, relatively common. Should we expect more from groups of individuals dedicated to following the Lord Jesus Christ? Probably. Should such actions prompt us to characterize evangelicalism as evil and unredeemable? I don’t imagine so. Yet, there are some who would disagree. Enter the evangelicals.
Exvangelicals? Understanding the Movement
Exvangelicals are a loose network of people that have rejected evangelical Christianity as a consequence of some disagreement (e.g., doctrinal, cultural, political). Over the last several years, the movement has gained visibility via social media and is commonly related to the “deconstruction of the religion.” According to Blake Chastain, often known as the “founder” of the exvangelical movement, exvangelicalism “affirms what evangelicalism condemns.” As such, exvangelicalism is a reactionary movement that has arisen as a consequence of deep disagreements and negative experiences with evangelicalism.
While there are plenty of specific disagreements between exvangelicals and evangelicals (e.g., affirmation of LGBTQ identities, political support, etc.), exvangelicals also observe broader dynamics inside evangelicalism that they discover as problematic. For instance, Chastain characterizes evangelicalism as “a dense network of churches, colleges, radio stations, publishing houses, music labels, movie studios, lobbying groups, and other institutions that work in concert to say theological, social, and cultural norms in any respect levels of life.” He goes on to notice that evangelical influencers “do their best to border evangelicalism as a scattered, amorphous, and ultimately unaccountable entity.” Based on my experience, it’s difficult to disagree entirely with this or other characterizations of evangelicals by exvangelicals (e.g., see the book by Sarah McCammon), let alone criticisms leveled by evangelicals (e.g., Karl Trueman’s The Real Scandal of the Evangelical Mind).
While I resonate, to some extent, with Chastain’s characterization, I find the exvangelical willingness to trade orthodoxy for “moral and spiritual autonomy” wrongheaded. It’s wrongheaded because exvangelicals make mistakes much like those made by the evangelicals they reject. For instance:
- If evangelicals could also be characterised as a loose movement lacking accountability, couldn’t exvangelicalism be similarly described? While exvangelicals don’t have the institutional heft of evangelicalism, they’ve a comparatively ambiguous and fluid public presence that will seem just as able to wriggling away from accountability. Whereas Chastain argues that evangelicals pretend to not be coordinated to avoid accountability, one could argue that exvangelicals avoid formal association for a similar effect.
- If evangelicals justify certain bad behavior by pressing the Bible into the service of their very own interests, don’t exvangelicals simply eliminate the necessity for such justifications? Using the Bible to justify bad behavior is, on a fundamental level, hardly different from rejecting its authority altogether. In this sense, evangelicals who misuse the biblical text usually are not that different from exvangelicals who dismiss God’s word altogether. When I say “misuse,” I’m not talking about mistaken interpretation. Biblical interpreters can and do get things fallacious. Instead, I’m talking concerning the manipulation of the text through either intentional or careless readings.
- If evangelicals have, at times, defined themselves culturally and politically on the expense of their theological testimony, haven’t exvangelicals, to some extent, amplified and embraced a cultural and political identity by jettisoning specific theological convictions? Again, we shouldn’t let evangelicals off the hook. Evangelical political thought, at the very least on a well-liked level, has often been more conservative than Christian. Still, that problem won’t be solved by opting into one other political identity but by sustained theological critique. In responding to evangelicals, exvangelicals have largely left behind the theological resources vital to correct the troubles of evangelicalism.
In my estimation, exvangelicals have rightly identified a few of the challenges with evangelicalism; nonetheless, in rejecting a theological core, the exvangelical
movement is simply able to critique, not restoration.
Responding to Exvangelicals
Whatever argument we’d want to advance concerning the exvangelicals, it seems to me that any response must begin with reform. That reform has nothing to do with accepting the claims of a changing culture or compromising our theological convictions. It has every thing to do with arranging ourselves in order that we increasingly conform to the image of Christ by obeying God’s word. We should be reformed based on the word of God in order that we love the world on God’s terms relatively than our own. Evangelicals don’t have anything particularly profound to supply the world once we put aside God’s word to advertise our own wisdom. Our strategies and concepts are as fragile as those of some other group.
In considering exvangelical claims, evangelicals must even be discerning. We need to tell apart once we are being hated, for Christ’s sake, and once we are being hated because now we have acted foolishly. We cannot compromise on the reality to pacify detractors. However, we will stand in the sunshine of the reality and acknowledge our need for repentance.
Finally, exvangelicals are lost. Life’s difficulties have made it in order that God’s word doesn’t take root and bear fruit of their lives. To the extent that evangelicals or evangelicalism have presented or promoted a false perspective on the world, we must seek reform; nonetheless, we must even be gracious in our engagement with exvangelicals since the goal just isn’t to silence them but to welcome them into the fellowship of the saints.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/RossHelen
